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“I saw loads of people wearing stuff like this on the boat over here,” I argued.
“They were teenagers. And they were mostly boys.”
“You saw teenage boys wearing capris?”
She smacked my arm. “I know you packed some very tropical outfits in that bag. What’s the point of bringing all the pretty stuff if you’re not going to wear it?”
“I just… I don’t really feel very pretty right now. I just want to unpack and relax a little.”
“Here,” Nikki said, bouncing off the bed and tearing open my suitcase, flinging the first few items at me. “Put these on, and we’ll go down to the beach. Don’t you want to get cracking on that ‘oceaning’ you were so enthusiastic about?”
I stared at the king bed in front of me. Such a big bed for just little old me.
“Dammit, you’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said, not believing my own words.
Nikki gently turned me and sat me on the edge of the bed. She started tugging off my shoes and socks. “Listen, you are not here to mope around this beautiful island for ten days straight. I will not let you do that. So you are going to wear this cute outfit you packed whether I have to dress you in it or not, and then we can go get a fruity grown-up drink. Or six.”
I fought the smile she was coaxing out of me.
“Oh, there she is. I can see a glimmer of the girl in there that once ran a lap around my house naked on a dare. But she’s stuck behind the grumpy-Gus that chooses to stay in her room on her first fucking day in Fiji. Naked girl would slap her silly, don’t you think? Ooh, can you picture that? Naked fifteen-year-old you storming in here, slapping you in the face, titties flopping all over herself.”
“Stop, please stop!” I laughed, falling back onto the bed. She always had a way of cheering me up, even when I think I don’t want it. Once I caught my breath, I sat back up. “Okay. You’re right. I’m not Vacation Gemma yet.”
“You know where Vacation Gemma is? At the bar.”
“Okay, okay!” I picked up the clothes she tossed at me and stopped. “Hey, you didn’t hand me a top.”
“Yes, I did.” She pointed to the bikini top I brought.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not ready. You want Vacation Gemma? Then let her ease into it.”
“Oh, please. After the amount of liquor I plan on buying, you’ll skip past Vacation Gemma and land right on Stripper Gemma in no time. You won’t even need a top!”
“Shut up!”
* * *
“Fun fact,” Nikki chirped as she shuffled into my room and sat on the coffee table later that afternoon.
“What?” I asked, my nose buried in Atonement.
“Did you know that most tropical islands have what is called a rainy season?”
“Oh?” I said, not looking up.
“Yeah. It’s a time of the year when it rains more than it doesn’t, and I mean real rain. Pounding sheets of water thrown down at you from the skies for brief periods, but frequent periods. And it happens just about every day. It’s a real bummer for their tourism industry during that time since, well, no one really wants a vacation where they’re stuck in the rain all day. Am I right?”
“Hm, I guess,” I agreed. “Interesting.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “On a slightly related note, did you happen to find out when Fiji’s rainy season was before you booked the trip?”
Thunder boomed overhead, the walls trembled from the force of it as wave upon wave of water crashed against them.
